


Wolf Moon and Book Worm

by BlackbirdsFly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Happy Derek Hale, M/M, Oblivious Derek Hale, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Writer Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6517561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackbirdsFly/pseuds/BlackbirdsFly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles spends most of his time trying to finish his novel and desperately ignoring his inconvenient crush/all-encompassing love for his childhood best friend.</p>
<p>Derek spends most of his time running his bookstore, casually dating, and wondering what he did to make his best friend so twitchy around him all the time.</p>
<p>And then there is Lydia, spending most of her time trying not to kill these lovable idiots and working on her Plan™.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There is a soft, hesitant knock at the door, tearing Stiles from his previously undivided attention. He sighs, knowing how long it’s going to take to gain that amount of focus again. Now staring at his laptop though, what he thought was coming out to be a major breakthrough and pure genius just looked like something a 6th graders would write in their journal.

The knock came again, increasing to a loud banging, drowning out the noise of Stiles thumping his head heavily down onto his desk.

“For the love of everything holy, I am coming!” He shouts, tipping his chair back a little too fast and nearly dumping himself on the floor. 

It isn’t a very long journey from his bedroom to the door of his apartment, but it takes a substantial amount of maneuvering around the dirty clothes and crumpled up paper that landed no where near his overflowing trashcan. Man, good thing he rarely had visitors.

Finally reaching his front door with only minimal trippage, for which he is very proud of, Stiles throws open the door and nearly got a fist to the face for his efforts.

Stiles let out a manly yelp as he jumps backwards, his arms flailing and hand knocking painfully into the wall. 

“Oh good, you’re alive. I thought I was going to have to peel your body off of your sacred laptop,” Derek says with his stupid smirk. 

“Even my dead body wouldn’t let you within ten feet of my laptop,” Stiles says, rubbing his fist as it throbbed from the collision with the wall.

“What are you doing here anyways?“

“Scott mentioned that you were working on your book this weekend and he hadn’t heard from you in a few days, so I figured you might be in need of some nutrition,” Derek says, holding up a bag of take-out. “You have ink smudge on your nose by the way.”

Derek shoulders his way in and toes expertly to the kitchen as Stiles furiously scrubs at his nose. 

“Grab the plates with the wolves on them!” Stiles yells as he runs into the living room, throwing the discarded clothes on the couch into the corner of the room.

“I’m pretty sure those are the only ones you own,” Derek calls back, clanking around in the kitchen.

“The only ones that matter anyways,” Stiles mutters, stretching out his back and hearing it pop. 

It almost surprises him to find the sun streaming in through the sides of the curtains, leaving long streaks on the tile floor. When did the sun decide to rise? Stiles’ tries to recollect the last few hours but all he can come up with was the feeling of his computer screen burning his retinas as he stared intently at it.

“Make any progress this weekend?” Derek asks as he enters the living room with plates of food. His dark brown hair was sticking up slightly on the right side and his nose was pink from his walk outside. Stiles tries valiantly to stop the stupid fluttering in his stomach. 

“Is it bad that I can’t remember?” 

Stiles valiantly tries to pat down his hair to look like a somewhat presentable human, the stubble on his chin is starting to itch. It is pathetic compared to the art form Derek has created with his stubble. Stiles learned long ago not to try to compare himself to Derek though. It only results in very pathetic drunken nights at Scott’s house, sitting in his boxers as he documents in strange detail the specks of color in Derek’s eyes.

“There must be something considering your lack of contact with the outside world in over 72 hours,” Derek mumbles around his food, still smirking even as he tries to lick the sauce that is running down his chin from the noodles in his mouth. Idiot.

“Hey I called my dad! That one time… I think. Or maybe that was a dream. Maybe this is a dream. You do look tanner than the last time I saw you. It’s winter no one is supposed to get tanner in the winter. What are you some kid of cyborg? Wait no that reference doesn’t make sense, hold on give me a minute-”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts, expression a mix of fondness and exacerbation. “I was visiting Cora in South America, remember? That’s why I’ve been gone all week.”

Stiles scrolls through his mind for when Derek had told him this information. It does explain why he hadn’t answered Stiles last week when he texted him a play-by-play of Lydia and Erica’s argument over the right type of heel to wear with a scoop neck dress. It turned vicious. 

“-and you’re definitely not listening to me.”

Oh crap. Derek is looking at him expectantly, raising an eyebrow at the noodles currently hanging out of Stiles’ mouth.

“I am totally listening, South America, Cora, sun, tan, yay!”

“That is not at all what I was saying,” Derek laughs, his hazel eyes crinkling and making Stiles’ heart seize a little in his chest.

“Fine,” Stiles says as he shakes off the feeling and shoves more food in his mouth. “But it was probably something along the same lines.”

Derek is definitely a professional eye roller by now.

“Cora says hi by the way,” Derek says as he picks up his empty plate and makes his way to the kitchen. “I told her you were close to finishing your next best seller.”

Stiles laughs, picturing Cora rolling her eyes and sassing him back.

“Oh yea, and what was her response?”

“She said she already has to hear your voice and doesn’t want to spend her money reading it as well,” Derek calls from the other room. It sounded further away than just the kitchen.

Wandering into the empty kitchen, Stiles hears the click of a mouse coming from his bedroom and whirls around, sprinting into his room to find Derek hovering over his computer, the screen open. 

“Hey!” 

Stiles launches himself towards Derek, ready to tackle him despite the obvious size difference. The only problem is with so many things on the floor he has to practically hop to get to him, letting Derek dance away from him with the laptop as he collapses in laughter. Stiles tries desperately to untangle his foot from a pair of jeans with dignity.

“You know you look like your dad when you do that?” Derek laughs, as Stiles stands there with his arms crossed and a stern face. Stiles chooses to ignore him.

“What did I tell you about ever touching my computer?”

“That you’d chop my hands off and buy some cats for the sole purpose of feeding my hands to them, yadda yadda yadda,” Derek says, waving his hand and throwing himself onto the laundry-covered bed. He points to the clothes underneath him lazily and asks, “These are clean right?”

“Why don’t you smell them and find out,” Stiles responds, snagging his laptop back from him. 

“If your objective was to come over here to make sure I was still alive, then mission accomplished. You can show yourself out.” 

Derek, like usual, rolls his eyes and ignores him, picking up pieces of clothing from the bed and examining them to make sure they were safe to be sitting on. It is so Derek that Stiles’ anger fades.

Stiles has known Derek since the second grade, when Scott fell off the slide and Derek laughed at him. Stiles threw dirt in his face and jumped on his back in Scott’s honor. Even in second grade Derek was still bigger than Stiles was. 

They had an ongoing battle for about a year after that, which was quite impressive seeing as how we were only 8. They would constantly be on the playground, claiming their territories. Stiles owned the slide, and Derek owned the swing set. To them it seemed like a big macho show down, each holding one side of the playground, their friends, well Scott and Boyd respectively, flanking them. 

It went on for a year until they started having recess with the third graders and they no longer owned the playground. Instead they were the small fish. In order to survive they decided to make a sacrifice and form a treaty, banding together to face the third graders. They have been best friends ever since. Derek even has their treaty framed in his bedroom in his apartment.

“So what are we doing on Saturday?” Derek asks, stretching his long body out, his shirt revealing a small sliver of equally as tanned skin. Stiles busies himself with cleaning up his desk to keep from staring. 

“I don’t know, I just assumed you were doing something with Natalie,” Stiles answers, imitating Natalie’s deep, sultry voice. 

“Nah, me and Natalie have been done for a week or so.” 

Stiles tries to keep the disobedient part of his mind from feeling a tiny bit of hope, as he tries to disguise the relief from his face.

“There is Emma now though.”

And just like that the hope sank in Stiles’ chest.

“Emma?”

“Yea she works at the coffee shop down the street, remember? Went to dinner with her yesterday after I got back. I think she’s going out with her roommates on Saturday though, so we should definitely do a movie night or something.”

“Actually I think I’m having bro-night with Scott on Saturday.”

“Really? I thought him and Allison-“

“Yea no Allison will be there, but like as a supervisor to bro-time, you know?”

Derek looks at him skeptically, but nods after a moment. Stiles makes a mental note to text Scott about their newly formed plans. Scott owes him anyways.

“Okay well I have to get going, I’m meeting Erica at the bookstore at 3,” Derek says, rolling to his feet. 

“Tell the blonde goddess hello and that I will bring her some of my babcia’s muffins soon, so she shouldn’t castrate me for not going out with her this weekend.”

Chuckling, Derek makes his way to do the door. 

“I’ll make sure to let her know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’re just so colorful Scott,” Stiles wails, sloshing the bottle of jack in his hand as he flails his arm.

It’s Saturday night and he’s drunk at Scott’s again in his boxers talking about Derek’s eyes. He should probably be a little concerned at how often this seems to happen, but he just can’t bring himself to care.

“I know bro,” Scott commiserates from his spot on the couch. 

There’s a slasher film playing in the background and Allison is sitting in the corner, working on her laptop ignoring both of their existences. 

“I just love them so much. The way they brighten when he laughs and cloud over when he’s tired. The way they-“

“Here’s a thought,” Lydia says, barging through the door like she owns the place, which its Lydia so she does, “you can ask him out like a normal person and stop this pathetic pining.”

She looks him up and down, nose scrunching up. Stiles doesn’t blame her. He’s sitting on the floor half naked in a cocoon of blankets and a half empty bottle of jack. His dad would be so disappointed. 

“One does not just ask Derek Hale out,” Scott drawls from the couch as he reaches for his drink on the coffee table. 

“That is right, Scotty boy, plus he has his new flavor of the week. Probably another model with ten-foot long legs… Maybe I should get ten-foot long legs…”

“Alright enough of this,” Lydia says as she moves over to Stiles camp on the ground, and takes the bottle from his clumsy hands. She ignores the grabby hands he makes towards it and heads over to sit with Allison.

“She might be right Stiles,” Allison says, looking up for the first time. “You’ve known Derek forever. You guys are really close. You never know what could happen.”

“I know exactly what would happen. I would be horribly, horribly, HORRIBLY humiliated and would never be able to look him in the eyes again,” Stiles says, slumping down into his blanket mountain thinking about it.

Derek may be bi, but that still didn’t mean that he would look at Stiles that way. Stiles knows, he’s seen the type of guys Derek hooks up with.

“It’s you and Derek man, it’s meant to be,” Scott yells suddenly, popping up from the couch and waving his arms around maniacally. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles sees Allison and Lydia exchange a mischievous look.

“That’s right Scott,” Lydia says, eyes glinting, “it’s meant to be.”

Stiles just shrinks back into his blankets and tries to hide from the world.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a week later and Stiles has migrated his workstation to the coffee shop down the street so he could pretend to be an adult who regularly interacts with the outside world. 

He ended up having to trash the majority of his writing from the other weekend, most of it being jumbled mess written by his half-awake zombie brain. Needless to say his editor was not happy with his progress.

The bell at the front door dinged, pulling Stiles from his concentration. 

Instead of another college hipster walking through the front door, however, it was a very familiar head of dark brown hair with matching eyebrows and a brilliant smile. It was one of many smiles of Derek’s that Stiles loves. Derek has a bank of never-ending smiles, but this one lit up his entire face.

Starting to stand from his seat, Stiles belatedly noticed that the smile wasn’t towards him, but towards the front counter. Confused, Stiles looks towards the counter but doesn’t see anyone he recognizes. Just the regular barista. Who is a pretty chestnut-haired girl with sparkling blue eyes. With a nametag that says Emma. Oh.

Stiles sat quietly back down, panicking inside, not knowing whether or not he should pack up and leave quietly or pretend not to have noticed Derek’s entrance. 

At the front counter Emma giggles as Derek talks quietly with her, their bodies leaning towards each other, his hand grazing over hers on the counter. It makes something in the pit of Stiles’ stomach drop, his arms heavy on the table in front of him. He can deal with hearing about Derek’s flings, but seeing it is just too much.

Stiles’ phone ringing snaps him back into reality. He jolts in his chair and scrambles to silence it as Lydia’s ringtone, ‘Red Headed Woman,’ blasts from it. He mumbles an apology to the girl giving him the stank-eye next to him. When he looks back up, Derek is smiling and heading his way. Stiles can’t help but notice it’s not the same one he gave Emma.

“Stiles! Hey!” Derek calls as he approaches the table.

“Heeeeeeeyyyy Derek, what- um what brings you here?” Stiles says as brightly as he can.

“Emma’s shift is over so I am here to pick her up. Remember I told you about her?” Derek asks, as he gestures over towards the counter where Emma is packing up and giving Derek heart-eyes.

“Oh yea, I just assumed you meant the coffee shop near the bookstore,” Stiles laughs awkwardly. Derek normally frequents the coffee shop that’s across the street from the Hale’s bookstore, ‘Wolf Moon and Book Worm.’ 

Derek’s smile drops slightly at Stiles’ uncomfortableness. 

“Hey, is everything-” 

“Der, you ready?” 

Emma is standing slightly behind Derek, a pretty blush across her cheeks. Why, Stiles thinks, does she have to be so pretty?

“Oh, um yea, just, can you give me a sec?” Derek responds, looking flustered as he glances back and forth between Emma and Stiles. 

Stiles can sense his hesitation. Derek has always been the one that could read Stiles the best, especially when he was trying his hardest to put on a brave face.

“I actually have to get back to writing, you know, new ‘best-seller’ and all. I’ll see at Lyds though,” Stiles says, already sitting back down in his seat, unable to look up at Derek and Emma together. 

“Oh, well actually I’m bringing Emma to the cottage this weekend so I won’t be able to make it.”

“But – but it’s your turn for movie night,” Stiles flounders. Derek always loves movie nights, especially when it was his turn to pick out the movie. He always chooses some period drama, which makes Stiles grin, and the rest of their friends groan.

“Tell everyone I give my turn to you, you can finally get Scott to watch Star Wars,” Derek says earnestly, even though they both know that will never work. You can’t just give your turn away, they set out rules for this.

“Der, we’re going to be late.”

Shit, Stiles completely forgot about Emma standing there. 

“Kay, I’m coming,” Derek calls over to her. “You sure everything is ok, Stiles?”

Oh how Stiles wants to say no. But then what? Say no, you can’t hang out with your new flame, you have to hang out with me? Stiles may be pathetic, but he hasn’t stooped that low.

“Yea no worries, I’ve got lots of writing to do before the deadline. You go have fun.”

Derek smiles, relieved and hurries over to where Emma is waiting, throwing her an easy smile and his arm over her shoulders.

Well, it’s not like he’s gotten much writing done here anyways, Stiles thinks, as he packs up his stuff and heads home with the left half of the bottle of jack from last week on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out uprooting your life and moving by yourself to NYC takes a lot of time/energy and doesn't leave a lot of room for writing. Hoping that will change though since I am now a little more settled. Here's a quick little something to show I am still alive! Sorry it's so short!


End file.
